Rescued Runaway
by R. Khanyar
Summary: For a pre-adolescent Gifted with Mindspeech, life can be terrifying, and sanity a tenuous thing. Help comes from the strangest of sources, but will it be enough? || Chapter 4 added! ^.^
1. Runaway

Sibilant whispers pressed against her mind, a hundred fragmented thoughts that were not her own wearing steadily at the already frayed edges of her sanity. Whimpering, she curled into an even tighter ball, burying her head under her thin pillow and trying to plug her ears. It wouldn't work, she knew. It never worked. But she still tried.  
  
The voices yelled and murmured, flavored with anger and pain and lust. She cowered further into the corner beneath her tiny cot, trying to hide. Why were they angry at her? Why did they hate her, desire to use her, to hurt her? What had she done wrong?  
  
Worthless slut. Bitch. Whore. Bad girls deserve beatings.  
  
Nonononononono! ::GOAWAYLEAVEMEALONE!::  
  
::??::  
  
She froze, heart pounding.  
  
::??::  
  
Her pulse thundered in her ears, almost enough to drown out the whispering voices, the cruel words within her mind. Shaking, she waited, frightened of that alien touch and yet longing for its return. It was gentle, soft, like the fluffy fur of a puppy. It made the other voices go away.  
  
She concentrated hard, giving herself a headache as she waited for that strange, curious presence to return. She waited until exhaustion claimed her, pulling her down into the sweet silence of sleep.  
  
= = = = = = = = = = = = =  
  
The day time voices were never as bad as the night time voices. Distracted mutters, elusive concerns that didn't affect little girls; they filled the back of her mind, dulling into a muted murmur that reminded her of rain on the roof. She was able to ignore the day time voices, usually, concentrating upon her own tasks and chores.  
  
"Hello, pretty Yyira," cooed a sultry, feminine voice as she exited the wash house where she lived with her mother.  
  
"Hello, mistress Maela." Yyira responded politely. The tall, smoky-eyed woman who ran the brothel next door scared Yyira, always looking at her with an expression like a cobra about to strike.  
  
So pretty, little Yyira. So pretty and so young. I have some clients who'll love having the breaking of you.  
  
"W-what?!" Yyira yelped, as Maela's husky voice echoed in her head louder than in her ears.  
  
The whore frowned, not liking the girl's sudden panic. "I just asked, pretty Yyira, where you are going all alone."  
  
Yyira blinked, confused. Didn't she..? "Ragman's Row, mistress." She reached back into the still open doorway and pulled out a large, double- handled woven wicker basket filled with carefully folded, clean but heavily worn clothing.  
  
"Such a long walk for a pretty child all alone," Maela purred.  
  
Such a perfectly long walk for a child to disappear.  
  
Images began to flash in Yyira's mind, dark images of cruel faced men and terrified little girls. Yyira screamed, tripping over and spilling the basket of clothing in her rush to get back inside the wash house. Mother would protect her, mother would know what to do.  
  
= = = = = = = = = = = = =  
  
Mother didn't believe her. "You will march right over there tomorrow and apologize to mistress Maela for your /rude/ behavior, young lady! And stop making up such horrible lies! Maela runs a clean brothel."  
  
= = = = = = = = = = = = =  
  
Terrified and sick, Yyira cried, curled up in a miserable ball underneath her tiny cot. She couldn't go to Maela's, she just couldn't! She'd never get away, never get away again. Not ever again. Never get away.  
  
Never get away. Never get away. Get away. Get away. Get away. Have to get away from here. Have to get away. Have to run. Have to run. Have to run away.  
  
Hiccoughing as she swallowed the last of her tears, Yyira held her breath and listened, straining to hear any sound that might indicate her mother was still awake.  
  
Stupid whore. Ungrateful bitch.  
  
Have to get away. Have to run away. Runawayrunawayrunaway.  
  
The house was silent, except for the furtive scrabbling of rats in the walls. Yyira crawled out from under her cot and got dressed. Then she tiptoed into the tiny kitchen, wincing and freezing at each creak of the floor boards. A crust of bread and a rind of cheese were folded carefully into a ragged handkerchief. She hesitated over the precious, wrinkled winter apples, and then stuck one in her pocket.  
  
She stopped at the door, afraid to go out. What if Mother was right? What if she was just being a bad girl, making up stories about mistress Maela. A lying, bad little girl.  
  
Bad girl. Bad girls deserve beatings. She flew from the house in a panicked rush, heart pounding in time to the frantic pace of her running. Or maybe she was running to the pounding of her heart. Voices chased her, laughing and cruel, echoing over and over again inside her head. She ran without direction, without thought, only knowing that she had to get away, had to run away.  
  
= = = = = = = = = = = = =  
  
::Are you sure?::  
  
The kyree at his side snorted, shaking her head. ::My son may still be a cub, but he knows what he felt.::  
  
Winterstar sighed, wrinkling his nose in disgust. He and his companion stood at the edge of what used to be the local kyree clan's territory, looking down at a filthy, slovenly hovel of a city. Slums spilled outside of the walls, spreading out across the landscape like a diseased growth upon the earth's skin.  
  
::Who ever he heard isn't Tayledras. Isn't kyree. It's none of our concern.::  
  
A glimmer of white teeth warned him that she /could/ bite him. ::She's just a cub, Winterstar. And she's Gifted.::  
  
Winterstar sighed again. This was a bad idea. ::The Elders are going to-::  
  
::Hush! Look! There!::  
  
He strained his eyes in the direction his companion pointed with her muzzle, straining to see in the deeper shadows surrounding the city. And then he saw it, a small, slender figure running for all it was worth, arms and legs pumping furiously.  
  
= = = = = = = = = = = = =  
  
Blinded be fear, Yyira ran as fast as she could. Paused. Stumbled and staggered, fought to regain her breath, and then ran again. Over and over, until there were no more walls to lean against, no more buildings blotting out the starlit horizon, no more shadowed alleys hiding monsters that might or might not be figments of a child's imagination.  
  
She ran until she couldn't run anymore, but still she went on, staggering, exhausted.  
  
And fell back hard on her rump as she walked into a wall. No, not a wall, a. man?  
  
A shadow was all she could see, topped by a silver cascade of moonlit hair. Fear twisted her gut, panic drove her back to her feet. Terror froze her in place as a monster stalked out of the shadows beside the figure. Yellow eyes gleamed.  
  
::You're safe now, cub.:: 


	2. Kyree

Will the _kyree_ be able to help Yyira come to terms with her Gift? Or will the frightened child lock herself away within her own mind forever?

Can the love of one cub keep her sane, regardless?

**=============**

**A Pile of Puppies**

**=============**

_:Are you sure about this, Huorra?:_ Winterstar Mindsent for what had to be the twentieth time that morning.

The _kyree_ flicked an ear at him, and he got the impression that she was growing annoyed with his fretful worrying. _:We can't take her to the Vale, not until you clear it with the Elders. My Clan will take care of her until then.:_

Winterstar nodded, glancing over at the child who walked on the other side of the _kyree_, one small hand curled tightly in Huorra's neck ruff. Autumn brown hair highlighted with russet and gold hung down her back in a clumsy braid; she hadn't allowed him to touch her since the night she'd ran to them. Considering what Huorra had told him about where the child had lived, he understood her fears, but it still hurt. A _Tayledras_ would never harm a child, especially not like **that.**

Wide, dark brown eyes gazed around the forest where they walked, amazement and curiosity shining in their liquid depths. Her face was sharp, all angles and hard edges, too thin from never having enough to eat. As it was, she was an unusually pretty child. When her face fleshed out and gained some healthy color, she'd be beautiful. 

Yyira seemed to sense him watching her, and turned her head to look at him nervously. Winterstar tried giving her a reassuring smile, and was met only with suspicion.

_:It will take time, Winterstar.: _Huorra Sent softly, her 'voice full of affectionate comfort. _:You shouldn't let her reluctance to trust hurt you so.:_

_:I know. I know. But--:_

= = = = = = = = = = = = =

Yyira was overwhelmed by the vast forest she found herself in, the enormous trees towering so far above her that she couldn't see their tops. She listened in wonder to all the sounds the forest made; the fluting song of an unseen bird, the rustle of a foraging animal, the whisper of wind through the leaves.

But most of all, she listened to the silence. The blessed silence within her own mind.

Her fingers tightened in Huorra's thick fur, and the _kyree flattened her ears. Yyira quickly loosened her grip, apologetically petting and smoothing the gray-brown fur back into place. It was kind of strange that the creature that had so terrified Yyira that first night was now the only creature she trusted._

But Huorra had made the voices inside her head go away. Huorra had taught her how to keep those voices from ever coming back.

She didn't trust the man with the silver hair and pale blue eyes. Ice eyes that looked at her with thoughts she couldn't read, couldn't hear. Huorra had told her that Winterstar could be trusted, that he was a good man and wouldn't harm her. And he had shown her nothing but  gentle kindness so far, generously sharing his food, finding her places to bathe and always respecting the boundaries she had thrown up around herself. Speaking to her with a soft voice in a language she couldn't understand.

She wanted to trust him, wanted to curl up safe in his arms and let his beautiful, alien words sing away the bad dreams.

But he was a man, and men had horrible thoughts. Men did terrible, frightening things that hurt pretty little girls.

_Bad girl. Bad girls must be punished._

= = = = = = = = = = = = =

_:I'm worried, Winterstar.: _Huorra padded across the large cavern, coming to a stop at the edge of the hot spring where Winterstar bathed. They'd been at the _kyree Clan's caves for three days, and this was the first time he'd seen his friend._

_:What's wrong?: _he asked, sitting up straighter as he turned to look at her.

_:It is the cub, Yyira. I'm afraid…: _the _kyree_ hesitated, and Winterstar could taste her fear through the mindlink.

_:Huorra, what's happened?:_

_:She's locking herself inside her own mind, Winterstar. She won't 'Speak to any of us, not even to my son. And her nightmares are growing steadily worse. I'm afraid that she's…:_

_:Driving herself __mad.__: Winterstar finished. _

Fear chilled his blood, making his heart pound, a deafening thudding inside his ears. An insane, tortured child with that powerful a Gift… He shuddered. The thought didn't bear thinking. 

He heaved himself out of the pool, water streaming from his body and soaking Huorra's fur as she pressed herself against his legs. He reached for the towel folded by his clothing, quickly drying himself off before wrapping it around his long hair. 

He stroked Huorra's muzzle, rubbed reassuringly behind her ears. _:I'm going to get Shadowhawk. She's a Mindhealer.:_

= = = = = = = = = = = = = 

_Bad girls must be punished. Worthless whore. Ungrateful bitch._

Yyira hid in one of the strange alcoves that riddled the _kyree caverns. The odd, rippling stone curtain shielded her from sight, and the soft green globe above her head was soothing._

But the memories… she couldn't hide from the memories. They crowded inside her mind, replacing the voices she'd thought were gone forever. Whispering, hurting, crowding, pushing, pushing, pushing, always pushing. Pushing her closer and closer to the edge of sanity, towards the abyss filled with nightmare images of cruel men and frightened children.

_:Yyira-friend?:_

The voice brushed lightly against her mind, fuzzy and curious. The memories receded.

_:Yyira-friend?:_

A questing muzzle was stuck beneath the stone curtain, nostrils flaring as the owner snuffled inquisitively at her feet.

_:Yyira-friend!:_

Laarn bounded into the alcove, cheerfully squashing her as he crowded into the tiny space and licked her tear-streaked face in affectionate greeting.

_:Yyira-friend is hurt. Yyira-friend shouldn't hurt.: _The concerned puppy nosed at her arms until he got her to hug his neck. _:Yyira-friend come play with Laarn? Laugh and play and make hurt go away.:_

She got an image of several _kyree cubs playing together, bounding after a bouncing ball of mage energy in a game of Catch and Keep. Laarn was inviting her to play with them. She wasn't sure just when the young cub had adopted her and made her mind communal territory. But he was the only one who spoke to her, innocently bounding past her shields and blocks no matter how strong she made them._

_:Yyira-friend come play?:_ the cub asked again, sticking his cold nose into her ear and making her squeak.

_:Yes, Laarn, I'll come play.: _Yyira gave in easily. It was hard to deny Laarn anything, and his puppyish exuberance was catching. And, though she wouldn't admit it, she was glad for his friendship, and his presence within her mind. He kept the memories away, chased them out where they couldn't hurt her anymore.

He swiped his tongue across her face again before bouncing out of the alcove. Pushing the curtain aside, she followed him, laughing.

When he wasn't curled up on top of her, he was a rangy young pup, all long legs and overlarge paws and too-big ears perked up on top of his head. His tongue lolled out of the side of his mouth as he dropped his jaw open in a grin, his tail wagging happily. His thoughts brushed her mind once more, wordless and full of love, before he bounded out of the cavern.

Heart lifting, Yyira raced after him, her waking nightmare forgotten in childish fun.

= = = = = = = = = = = = =

Huorra gazed affectionately at the pile of puppies all collapsed in an exhausted heap, one on top of the other. Hope stirred in her heart as she noticed Yyira curled up in the middle of the pile, one thin, pale arm thrown over the black-furred shoulder of her son, Laarn. Maybe they could help the human-cub after all.

_:You did good today, Laarn.:_

_:She's mine, mother. I have to help her.: _the cub replied sleepily.

Huorra rose and padded silently from the chamber, heart suddenly heavy. He was so young. They were both so young to form such a Bond.

_Winterstar, please hurry. Before she drags my son down into madness with her._


	3. Insanity

_Hmm, yes. Before we get to the actual story foo, there are a couple things I'd like to answer. And I figured other people than just the questioners might like to know, so why not put those answers here?_ ^_^

**1) **_Yyira is pronounced 'year-ah'_

**2) **_If you've come to the conclusion that Yyira and Laarn are forming a Mindmate Bond, you're completely correct._

= = = = = = = = = = = = =

Laarn continues to shield Yyira from her memories, but is a half-trained pup strong enough to guard against insanity? Or will she draw him into her nightmare reality instead?

Will Shadowhawk be in time to save them both?

**==============**

**Nightmare Visions**

**==============**

Yyira was hiding again, locked away inside her shields with only her memories for company. Laarn could hear the frantic whispers of her thoughts fluttering like trapped butterflies in the back of his mind. It seemed like he could always hear or feel the human-cub, lately. Most of what was in her mind merely confused the young _kyree_, but some of it frightened him.

It frightened Yyira too; that was why she hid so often. But the memories found her no matter where she went, locked inside her mind forever, unless she could find the strength to let them go.

_Bad girls deserve to be punished,_ the thought whispered inside Laarn's mind, simultaneously rough and masculine and high and feminine.

Fear pushed the cub into a loping run as he searched the caverns, following the tenuous link that connected him to Yyira. It kept fading in and out, sometimes so strong he could all but see where she was hiding, sometimes so weak it was all he could do to sense even the barest hint of her presence. His mother was afraid that he was forming too tight of a bond with the human-cub, kept warning him to let the link lie fallow in the hope that it would eventually fade away into nothing. But he couldn't do that, couldn't leave Yyira alone to face the nightmares.

_Bad girl.__ Bad girls deserve to be punished. Punished, punished, punished. Bad girls deserve to be punished._

The images that accompanied the silent mantra made Laarn feel sick and filthy. Big, ugly males hurting young female cubs. Terror permeated the images, blood tainted them red. So much blood, so much fear… Yyira's blood, Yyira's fear.

_Bad girls deserve to be punished._

Finally he found her, curled up in a niche near the hot springs, veiled from sight by the billowing steam. Laarn forced himself into the niche beside her, nosing at her arms and face until her got her to withdraw enough from her tortured shell to respond to his presence. Thin, trembling arms curled tightly around his neck as she buried her face into his furred shoulder and cried.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = 

_He was small, and his body felt wrong, somehow. He was pressed into a corner, crouched on hind legs, front legs spread to either side, trapped by chains. He curled his hands into fists, struggled against the chains._

Hands? Fists?

_He was human-shaped. A small human-cub._

Yyira. Yyira's nightmare.

_He cried, tears burning hot against raw cheeks unprotected by fur. The taste of blood filled his mouth, salty and metallic._

Dreaming. Only dreaming.

_A snarling male was in the room. A human-male. Lips thinned back, showing large, flat teeth in a vicious snarl. Dark eyes glinted red. He whimpered, pressing tighter to the wall as the male walked towards him. The chains scraped against stone, slicing the fragile flesh at his wrists. The male had something in his hand, something that glinted in the red light. Something sharp and cruel._

Just a dream. Only a dream. Yyira's dream. Yyira's nightmare.

_He flinched as the male touched his hair, yelped as the male slapped his face._

_"Are you a bad girl?"_

Nonono!

_"You're a bad, bad little girl. Bad girls deserve to be punished."_

Nightmare. Real. Nightmare. Real. Nightmare. Realrealrealreal.

_He cowered as the male stroked and petted him, touching him in places he never wanted to be touched. Terror pounded against his mind, shredding through his fragile barriers until he didn't know what was real and what was nightmare. The male jerked him close, wrenching him around cruelly and forcing him to his knees._

_"Bad girls deserve to be punished."_

**:NO****!: Laarn awoke with a mental scream, panting and terrified. Beside him, Yyira moaned and squirmed, locked inside the nightmare Laarn had only barely escaped.**

= = = = = = = = = = = = =

Laarn and Yyira slunk through the _kyree caverns side-by-side, eyes both yellow and honey-brown bearing identical haunted expressions. Yyira's autumn brown hair was matted and filthy, straggling about her face in greasy tendrils. Laarn's once glossy black fur was now dull and shedding badly, small bald patches spotting his hide._

_:Laarn__?: Huorra Mindsent tentatively, fear clouding her mindvoice and lending it an acrid taste._

_:Bad__ girl. Bad girls must be punished.:_

Huorra fled the chamber, unable to bear what had happened to her son.

= = = = = = = = = = = = =

Shadowhawk walked out of the chamber where the child and cub had been confined, her eyes filled with tears. Winterstar and Huorra both gazed anxiously at the Mindhealer, the _kyree_ pressed up tight against the male Hawkbrother's side.

"Can you Heal them?" Winterstar asked, his voice a broken whisper.

Shadowhawk took a deep, shaky breath. "I can try." 


	4. Mindhealer

_Woo boy. Took me a bit to figure out how to structure this chapter without making it seem **too contrived. My apologies for the delay in updating.**_

_I expect there will only be one more chapter after this, and the fic will be finished._

= = = = = = = = = = = = =

Shadowhawk dares the twisted dreamscape that Yyira and Laarn have become lost in. Will the _Tayledras_ Mindhealer succeed in leading the young Mindmate pair back to sanity?

=============

**Maze of Madness**

**=============**

They wandered together, lost within the shared darkness of their minds. The paths they walked were twisted and confused, shrouded in shadow and littered with sharp, jagged stones and shards of glass. Warped memories floated in little bubbles through the darkness, small points of light like multi-colored stars.

They ran from the purple ones. Purple meant pain.

= = = = = = = = = = = = =

Shadowhawk crouched by the children, watching as they dreamed. Laarn twitched and whined, curled as tightly as he could get to the girl's side. Yyira whimpered and moaned, spindly arms locked tight around the young _kyree._

Shaking her head, Shadowhawk rose and left the chamber, leaving her merlin, Twill, behind to monitor the younglings and warn her if their dreaming got any worse.

"Breaking their Bond isn't an option," she stated flatly before either Winterstar or Huorra could ask. "Maybe before they slid into madness, it would have been possible. Now, it would probably kill them both."

_:What do you mean?: _Huorra asked. From the look on Winterstar's face, he had been about to ask the same question.

"I mean that breaking the Mindmate bond would break _them, Huorra. In their shared insanity, Yyira is Laarn and Laarn is Yyira."_

_:That's impossible. No Mindmate bond has ever been that strong.:_

"Have Mindmates ever gone mad together before?" Shadowhawk countered harshly.

Huorra whined, flattening her ears and leaning hard against Winterstar's thigh. The Hawkbrother scowled at the Mindhealer, burying his fingers in Huorra's pelt. "That was unduly harsh, Shadowhawk. Laarn is her son, remember."

Shadowhawk turned her piercing gaze upwards to meet his, asking quietly, "And what about the out-clan child? What is Yyira to you, Winterstar?"

Winterstar looked away first.

= = = = = = = = = = = = =

Sometimes they were in a cave. The purple bubbles, the bad memories, couldn't find them in the cave.

Sometimes there were others in the cave with them. A silver-haired man that sang to them. A female _kyree who watched them with sad yellow eyes. It seemed to Yyira and Laarn that they knew these two, and that all they had to do was reach out to them and the nightmares would go away. But fear held them back, always made them hesitate one second too long._

Then a new person came one day. Silver-haired like the man, only female, and a pale raptor perched on her shoulder. She spoke to them sometimes, but mostly she just watched them.

The purple bubbles could find them then, crowding close and driving them back into the twisted maze of their minds.

They didn't want to see the woman with the bird.

= = = = = = = = = = = = =

_The man smiled cruelly, and his flat, blunt teeth slowly warped into vicious fangs that would rip and shred their throats._

_"You're a bad little girl, aren't you? You know what happens to bad girls, don't you?"_

_They cowered into the corner as he walked slowly towards them, unbuckling his belt._

_"What happens to bad girls?"_

_"Punished. Bad girls deserve to be punished."_

The nightmare changed for the first time.

_A shadow rose behind the man, a great hawk with wings spread wide. A woman stood behind the man with moonlight for hair, clothed in a cool, swirling green-gold gown._

:It's only a dream, younglings. It's not real.:

_"Real!" they cried with the same voice. _

_Blood flowed red when the man touched their cheek._

:It's not real. Dreams can't hurt you.:

_"Can't you see the blood? So much blood. Yyira's blood." Laarn whispered._

_The woman walked forward, and the cave tried to come with her. The nightmare wavered, the man blurred, like water dumped across a fresh painting. She alone remained solid, a shining light, untouched by the blood that flowed down the walls._

:Not Yyira's blood. Never Yyira's blood.:

_"Yyira's blood!"_

:No. That's the dream, and the dream is a lie.:

_"Truth!" Yyira's voice this time, angry and frightened. "Not a lie! Not a liar!"_

= = = = = = = = = = = = =

Shadowhawk gasped, jerking awake and finding herself sprawled in an untidy heap on the floor. There was something firm but soft beneath her head, and when her eyes focused, she saw a very worried Winterstar looking down at her.

"What happened? We heard you cry out, and Twill came flying out of here like his tail had caught on fire."

"She threw me out, Winterstar. I said the wrong thing, and she threw me out." Shadowhawk struggled to sit up, and only then realized that Huorra was lying across her legs and hips.

"No, stay down for a bit longer," Winterstar said, brushing her hair from her forehead. His fingers were cool, a blessed relief to the fever she felt inside her head.

"God of my fathers, Winterstar, the _strength that girl possesses! And her other Gifts haven't even begun to develop yet."_

_:We never intruded far enough to read her,:_ Huorra cut in. _:What are her other Gifts?:_

"Healing and Empathy, for certain. Something else I couldn't quite read. She'd make one hell of a Mindhealer if only…" Shadowhawk trailed off before she could finish the sentence.

"Is their any hope left?" Winterstar asked.

Pushing at Huorra's shoulder so the _kyree would get off of her, Shadowhawk shrugged out from under Winterstar's restraining hands and sat up. "I don't give up a fight so easily, Winterstar," she growled. _

= = = = = = = = = = = = =

_The whip whistled through the air and cracked against their skin. The walls wept blood._

_"Bad girl. Pretty girl. Broken girl."_

:It's not real.:

_The nightmare wavered, melted. The shining woman was back._

_"It is real!"_

:No, this is just a dream, just a memory, and not even your own.:

_"NO! It's real! I'm not lying, it's real, it's real, I'm not lying!"_

_The woman walked towards them, and the nightmare was blown away by a soft, musical wind. The dark maze stretched out before them, and they ran. They ran far into the _dark_, and the shadows followed them in the shape of a hawk._

_The purple bubbles followed them too, crowding closer and closer, surrounding them until they couldn't run anymore lest they run into one. Faces surrounded them, slovenly half-naked women laughed, cruel-faced men leered, starving children cried out in pain and fear._

_A silver arrow flew threw the darkness like a falling star, and one of the bubbles burst in a shower of blood._

:They are not real. And you can destroy them. You have the strength to destroy them.:

_"Punished. Bad girl. Bad girls **deserve** to be punished."_

:Laarn is not a bad anything, certainly not a bad girl.:

_"Laarn?"_

:Laarn.:

_A blue bubble floated through the hole left where the arrow had pierced through the purple ones. They ran through fields and forests, chased the scent of the hare on the wind, and smelled the earth beneath their paws._

_He remembered his mother and his sibs. He remembered playing Catch and Keep in the caves. He remembered listening to the historians and the story-tellers. He remembered who he was._

_Laarn's teeth ripped through another purple bubble, and the darkness was splashed with red._

:Yyira. Come back to us, Yyira.:

_"Bad girl. Lair. Bad girls deserve to be punished."_

:You are not a bad girl.:

_"Yyira is a bad girl."_

:Then let Yyira go. Release her and send her torments with her.:

_"I am Yyira."_

:You are who you choose to be.:

_A bow appeared in her hands, a silver arrow already set to string. Laarn and the woman turned away into the darkness, but alabaster stardust marked their trail. She could find them, if she wanted to. If she could destroy the bubbles._

_She lifted the bow awkwardly, unsure how to use it. Drew back the string._

_Blood. So much blood._

= = = = = = = = = = = = =

Winterstar paced restlessly, unable to hold still. Shadowhawk rested, Twill tucked nearby, and watched him pace. Huorra and Laarn were curled up together, the cub getting the first restful sleep he'd had in days.

"You're going to wear down a chasm until the _kyree need to build a bridge just to get into that cavern." Shadowhawk said dryly, her voice tired._

Winterstar sat down abruptly right where he'd been pacing. "You were in trance for hours, and it's been a full day since you came out. What if she—"

"She has to choose herself, Winterstar. She has to decide to come back to us herself. I can't do any more for her unless she does that."

= = = = = = = = = = = = =

The girl that walked out of the cavern was pale and much too thin. Her filthy clothing hung off her gaunt frame like rags. Her honey-brown eyes were dark with fatigue, the sunken flesh around them bruised. Autumn-brown hair hung around her face in matted tangles.

_:I would like to take a bath, please.:_

The soft, gentle Mindvoice jerked them all awake, and they stared at the fragile figure standing in the entranceway as if they couldn't believe they weren't still dreaming.

"Yyira?" Winterstar asked, his voice quiet and full of hope.

Laarn pulled away from his mother, padding across the cavern to nose at the girl's hand. She rubbed his ears, tilting her head as she turned those dark eyes toward Winterstar, seeming to consider his question, or perhaps her answer.

_:Yyira is dead.:_


End file.
